


5. Slit Throat

by FuryBeam136



Series: Fury does goretober 2019 [5]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Goretober, Goretober 2019, Hubert dies in this fic, just saying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-26 19:04:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20935226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FuryBeam136/pseuds/FuryBeam136
Summary: For Dimitri, anything less than a slow, agonizing death is mercy. He hasn’t shown true mercy in years, his heart as cold as his homeland.





	5. Slit Throat

For Dimitri, anything less than a slow, agonizing death is mercy. He hasn’t shown true mercy in years, his heart as cold as his homeland. He is a vengeful god and none dare to oppose him, at least none smart enough to know the fate that will come of it.

He cuts his foes down mercilessly, not bothering in most cases to ensure they’re truly dead. But here, with someone in front of him he has to ensure stays down, he holds a knife to his throat and stares into his eyes with the frenzy of a madman.

There is vicious anger in Hubert’s eyes. Justified anger, but vicious. Burning. Passionate. Dimitri’s lips curl with distaste for the pathetic man. Hubert is just as much of a beast as Dimitri, a hound following its master’s orders, but the defiance in those dark eyes draws anger from Dimitri’s hollow chest.

“You lived like a dog,” Dimitri snarls. “And now you’ll die like one.”

As much as Dimitri hates Hubert, he does nothing more than slit the man’s throat, like he’s seen a man do with his crazed beast. Besides, Hubert would have relished in the pain of a drawn out death, derived from it a sick pleasure Dimitri understands all too well.

They aren’t so different, really. But where Dimitri is the wild boar, Hubert is the bloodhound.

The scent of blood is thick, horrifying yet pleasing. Dimitri dips his fingers into the wound at Hubert’s neck, and touches them to his tongue. The taste of blood not his own is something Dimitri can’t help but revel in.

He’s still alive, and the taste of blood on his tongue only serves to prove that.

Bitter laughter boils over and Dimitri shakes from insanity. He is a vengeful god, and Hubert stood in his way.

If Dimitri weren’t as broken as he is, maybe he would have cried after killing a man that was once something like a friend.


End file.
